A Hunter's Journal
by ObeseCommando
Summary: A collection of small stories written while fighting the forces of Darkness.
1. Entry 1

**Entry 1**

Betrayal is always a bitter pill to swallow, even when it comes from a stranger.

I'm starting this journal late, and I don't even really know why. Guess I just needed something else to do while I'm flying between planets. Can't do any target practice, and my Ghost has started to run a tally on how many times I clean my equipment. Time for something new. Even though any Hunter worth their salt knows that the equipment always comes first. It's the only thing keeping me alive out there, so I'd rather not take anything for granted, especially when I'm using gear I just picked up. Like The Last Word, or so other Guardians have called it. I just saw it as a pistol; a means to an end. Didn't mean I wasn't eager to try it.

I set down in the Cosmodrome to test the gun. With how many Fallen are there, no one would miss a few dozen. It'd be like pulling weeds, if pulling weeds was any fun. The run started out fine. The gun had a nice, satisfying kick to it. The headless Dregs and Vandals could vouch for the stopping power. But it wasn't a real test. I could have done the same amount of damage with my throwing knives. That was when I saw a Titan fighting a patrol from the House of Wolves, and I smiled while taking aim.

For Fallen, the Wolves had proven to be the hardiest; though most of that was probably fright born from Skolas, the "Kell of Kells." If you had a good enough weapon, and the ability to use it, then the Wolves were barely tougher than their counterparts in the other Houses.

I took a shot at a Vandal and watched its head explode. The feeling was intoxicating, so I aimed the gun again and took out another Vandal. The Titan wasted the shot from his salvaged Scorch Cannon, but at least he made sure there wouldn't be anything left to bury, if the Fallen did anything like that for their dead.

A drop ship came and the Titan brought the Scorch Cannon to bear on it, destroying the ship's turrets before it could attack. I was reloading, daring the next patrol to come out of their sanctuary. And when they did, my bullets were waiting. Three of them didn't make it to the ground with their heads. The others didn't last long. Another ship came and met the same fate.

It wasn't until I was going toe-to-toe with a pair of Fallen captains that I realized I was on my own. I ducked behind an old tank to reload, listening for the Titan's guns, but only heard the captains shooting at my cover. My helmet then showed the Titan's icon walking away from the fight.

I'm not big on the stereotypes other Guardians have made for each other, but there was always something about a Titan that made them seem solid. Might be the armor, or the way they can support a whole fireteam with those shields of theirs. To see a Titan turn tail like that was enough to make me want to sling a shot right into his back. He was probably waiting for me to pick up his mess, just so he could get credit for it.

I had just finished reloading. I would only have to squeeze the trigger at him.

I decided to shoot the Fallen instead. If I lived, I could buy more ammo from the Tower.

One of the captains jumped around my cover, but I was able to get the shotgun off of my back in time to take their head. The body didn't even hit the ground when the other captain hit me in the back and sent me flying. The ground sped toward my face and I tried to make it a graceful roll. Only half succeeded, but I was able to shoot the captain with The Last Word while I was on the ground. Would've had their head if it wasn't for those damn arc shields.

The captain was about to take my head off with its stupid swords when two of its arms were ripped apart by a fusion rifle. It spun with the impact, shouting in pain. I got to my feet and summoned my Golden Gun. Probably overkill, but it was nice to incinerate that last captain. And standing to my side was another Titan, one that better represented his order than the last.


	2. Entry 2

When my gun runs dry, I will have my knife. When my blade breaks, I will have my teeth.

Strikes are great because they give us a chance to fight back, a chance to spit against the Darkness. I've been on plenty, and even though it feels like the work doesn't end, there are still chances to get the occasional thrill. And they give me a chance to operate with other Guardians.

Even though I prefer working alone, I have no problems with the other classes, unlike some Hunters who avoid Warlocks. But sometimes the others are too slow, too cautious. Most Guardians have already died once. It wasn't bad, and I'd bet more than one of us is waiting for the time their Ghost gets popped so they can get back to their rest.

Sometimes you have to take it easy on a strike; grin, show your fangs, and make the ugly bastards think whether they really want to try and fight, even if you're by yourself and there's a whole army of them. Feels better that way. If a Dreg sees you charging covered with the blood of the last twelve Dregs, then maybe that one will hesitate, feel a bit of fear. And that's the real victory. Popping their head off with one shot is a strong second. It's a line of thought that might make others spout their beliefs of honor and humanity. I've got that in spades. Don't need a lecture. But when I find other, like-minded Guardians on a strike, then I almost feel a little sorry for whatever we're being sent to kill.

Last time it happened, I was sent to the Ishtar Academy with a Titan and a Warlock to stop the Vex from making a link in their planetary network. I didn't know them, but I knew how we were going to operate when the Warlock threw himself at a Vandal and ripped its face apart with space magic. I grinned behind my helmet and clenched my pistol a little tighter. It was going to be a good strike.

The Fallen and Vex were too busy with each other to notice us, so we were able to cut through them until the Fallen were all dead and the Vex knew we were coming. We emerged into a cavern, a vast, picturesque place that I would have sat down at if there wasn't a large formation of Goblins warping towards us. The Titan jumped into the air and unleashed his Fist of Havoc, obliterating some of the Goblins and scattering the rest. I fired at the Goblins until the Last Word was empty. Then I switched to my knife and charged.

Jumping into the Vex formation was almost suicidal. At that range, they stopped trying to shoot us and tried to hit us with those shockwaves that come from their hands. But for being advanced, murderous robots, they sure were slow. The Warlock and Titan kept shooting, miraculously avoiding each other, until their guns were spent. I had been slashing the whole time, and it wasn't long till my arms started to burn and shake. For all my weapons and armor, I'm still only human. As my armor started to cool me down, I envied the Exos' endurance.

Cutting Vex was hard work. I had to get them right in that big, shining stomach of theirs or risk getting hit. The Titan didn't seem to care about his armor. He was waving a Goblin's head like a club. The Warlock was right next to me, robe poked full of new holes. I was afraid for my cloak, but it was good to know someone was watching my back. I threw a knife into a Goblin before stabbing another. Overall, the fight was a glorious moment of abandon.

When the Vex were dead and the cavern echoed with their last screams, we immediately set off for the next fight, reloading while we ran. Wasn't long before we got to the place the Nexus Mind was. Minotaurs roamed in the room below. We looked at each other for a second before jumping into them.

I hit the ground, rolled, and pulled the shotgun off my back. The first shot tore through the Minotaur's shields before it knew I was there. The next shot ripped it apart. The Warlock threw his gun aside and focused his strikes into one of the Minotaurs. It was impressive, but I leveled my gun at the Vex and fired. Fights can be fun, but efficiency is better. The Warlock looked like he disagreed, but at that moment, the Nexus Mind decided to pay us a visit.

Its first blasts were aimed at the Titan, but he was fast enough to get in cover. I took a few shots, but the Last Word hardly scratched its back. It was going to be a long fight, but we had the firepower, if we could just be smart.

The bloodlust ran deeper in the others than it did me. Waves of Vex started teleporting into the chamber, and the sight of the easy targets was too much for the Titan and Warlock to handle. They dove right at them while I was reloading. Wasn't long before the Nexus Mind noticed them out in the open.

I've seen a true Guardian's death before, where you and your Ghost are taken out. It happens, whether you're out on patrol or it's a freak Crucible accident. It only happens when the Ghost materializes when their Guardian goes down. If it's small arms fire, there's a good chance the Ghost won't be hit and you'll be picked up, especially since the Fallen can't develop a fast-firing gun to save their lives. But underneath the artillery the Nexus Mind was packing, those Guardians didn't stand a chance. I burst from my cover, taking every shot I could to get its attention, but I couldn't shoot its rounds out of the air. It looked painless, if that's any consolation. The Warlock fell first, his chest exploding while he was tearing a Goblin apart. The Titan noticed, looked at the Nexus Mind just in time to lose his head. If his armor had been in better condition, he might've survived the hit. And the Nexus Mind kept pouring onto their remains, their Ghosts turned to ash.

Rest of the fight went quick. When it was done, I only had a handful of bullets left. My knife was covered in the goo the Vex pump through their bodies. From the Tower, Ikora Rey had been watching us, and now I could hear her voice playing through my helmet's speaker, explaining how I had done a good job, despite the loss of two Guardians, and that I had severely crippled the Vex's ability to transform Venus. At the time, I didn't care. I crossed the chamber to the Nexus Mind's corpse, avoiding all of the holes that had been punched into the floor during the fight. Its vacant eye stared at me, and I saw my reflection there. I fell to my knees, held my knife up, and plunged it into the eye. For a machine that could shrug off rockets, the wires and tubes around its eye were easy to cut. Ikora kept talking, despite my butchery. Maybe she didn't care. Maybe she knew exactly why I was doing it. Maybe she was there before.

I didn't do cut the Nexus Mind's eye for pleasure. I'm also not a sentimental man, especially for those whose names I never learned. The eye was loose enough, so I put away my knife and grabbed both sides. There are some Hunters who like their trophies: a Fallen's gun here, a Cabal helmet there. They're memories of a successful hunt. When I had the eye in my hands, I reached back and threw it across the chamber. I didn't want to remember that day. I wanted to forget all about it but knew I never would.

One encounter wouldn't change me. One day I will die. And when that happens, I would rather fall on the frontlines instead of letting the Darkness chase me into a corner. When I got back to my ship, I took off my helmet, placed my pistol and knife on the floor, took a deep breath, and then started laughing.


End file.
